Vodavil gives Torontonians a chance to do something that hasn’t been possible in the city for more than 70 years--that is, to see a vaudeville show in the Winter Garden Theatre, a theatre built expressly for that type of entertainment. That fact alone would be enough for any lover of theatre and theatre history, but Vodavil is also a wonderfully conceived show that combines magic, mime and comedy to make ideal live entertainment for the whole family.

According to the programme notes, “‘Vodavil’ was an informal term many vaudeville performers used in their correspondence to describe their profession”. Originally, vaudeville, which flourished from the 1890s to the 1930s, would have contained a a large assortment of specialty acts including singing, dancing, pantomime, juggling, comedy and magic. Vodavil focusses only on magic with five magicians representing a wide range of performance styles. While all five are natural comedians, Tina Lenert and Ardan James are particularly adept at mime.

When you enter the Winter Garden the curtain is up and the stage is completely bare all the way to the brick back wall with only a ghost light on stage. A frumpy, inconspicuous cleaning lady makes her way along the front row leading you to wonder if she’s arrived too early (or too late) for her job. This, of course, is the first act. She (Tina Lennert), sits down on her work cart, exhausted, and dreams of a more glamorous life. Soon the coat she’d hung over the upright mop next to her becomes animated, knocks off her dingy headwrap and starts to transform her, against her protests, by changing ordinary objects to jewelry and generally turning what we thought was an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. Lenert’s right arm represents the cleaning lady while, of course, her left arm and gloved hand represents the mysterious mop-man. We know this. But Lenert is so adept at having her left and right arms behave as independent entities that you have to keep reminding yourself that there really is only one person on stage. Besides, the magic her left hand performs is beautifully done.

Only after her act is concluded do we meet Mike Caveney, our comic host in a loud check jacket. It’s that he and the rest of the cast are thrilled to be performing in a house with such historic ties to their profession. He points out that the Winter Garden was designed by Thomas W. Lamb in 1913 as the centerpiece of impresario Marcus Loew’s chain and that the Elgin and Winter Garden is now the last surviving Edwardian stacked theatre in the world. You can’t help feeling thankful that for once Toronto decided to preserve some of its history rather than knocking it down to make way for condos.

Caveney is very funny with the air of sightly distracted game-show host about him. His introductory trick, as he admits, is not magic at all but pure science. He manages to toss a wooden ring in the air with a glass mug of coffee resting inside. The fact that it failed the first time only showed that there was no trickery involved and indeed set up the desired notion that he is just flying by the seat of his pants. This worked to hilarious effect in his next trick where he has an audience member choose a card, replace it in the deck and hold the deck over her heart. he claims he can shoot an arrow at the deck and have it stop just where the card is. The preamble to the stunt in which he alternately assured the chosen woman of his expertise yet keeps undermining it through verbal or physical lapses is priceless.

Caveney introduces the famed French magician Gaëtan Bloom, whose first trick is the Chinese Sticks. Unfortunately, Bloom, dressed in Chinese garb, began his patter in a kind of excited gibberish that we were supposed to think was Chinese. That kind of approach may work in Paris, but not in multicultural Toronto. Perhaps sensing the coolness the audience, Bloom rapidly modified his speech into a mélange of English, German, Italian and French and finally settled on English with a deliberately exaggerated French accent. Once he found the right note, everything went smoothly and Bloom is truly amazing. The Chinese Sticks (short bamboo sticks with cords inside and tassels attached) were merely a prelude to his jaw-dropping version of the cut-and-restored rope using his microphone cord and scissors that keep disappearing from his hand to be found attached by the handle to the cord or the microphone stand. It’s a tour-de-force with a conclusion so incredible someone in the audience actually exclaimed “No” in utter awe.

Following Bloom is Ardan James, whose magic is based primarily on mime. His first adventure finds him dealing with an unruly handkerchief that exerts such power it seems to pull him around and finally off the stage. Next he has to wrestle with his top hat that resolutely refuses to budge from mid-air. His miming ability is so precise it makes the unbelievable seem totally real. That he should produce something later from the empty hat is minor compared to the “magic” of his mime. In fact, James’s act shows just how much even ordinary magic depends on mime.

The final magician in the lineup is the Great Tomsoni and Company, the aged Tomsoni being supposedly “Poland’s Greatest Magician” and “Company” being his once lovely assistant who has clearly seen better days. Tomsoni has actually been around a long time and it’s a stroke of inspiration for him and “company” to play up their decrepitude as part of the act. Bedecked with medals, Tomsoni (John Thompson from Chicago) is not so aged that he can’t miraculously produce dove after dove from any handkerchief he finds and even from clear plastic wrap. “Company” (Pamela Hayes), arrayed in a strapless gown, undercuts any sense of elegance by walking he high heels like a football player and chewing bubble gum. She gives the air of having worked with Tomsoni so long she’s become bored with his act. They thus make a most amusing couple, an effect that only heightens Tomsoni’s amazing abilities.

The show then moves into a series of reprises. Perhaps the most effective of these is Tina Lennert, now clad in an elegant gown, whose silent manipulation of a long scarf, two Chinese rings and a bangle is beautifully choreographed. She makes the rings link and unlink with real grace and how she makes the scarf pass through her neck or, more surprising, makes one of the rings pass through her arm right before your eyes makes you stare in wonder.

Unlike the high-tech shows of illusionists like David Copperfield, Vodavil has a homey, intimate feeling and all of the performers have the ability to create an immediate rapport with the audience. This chance to experience what vaudeville was like not only give a glimpse into the entertainment of an earlier time, but also fills the need for a simpler (though still dazzling) form of entertainment that places its emphasis on people rather than technology. Let’s hope that Vodavil or even vaudeville becomes a regular part of Luminato.